


Bake the Yuletide Gay

by sevtacular



Category: Holby City
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bakery, Berena Secret Santa (Holby City), Berena Secret Santa 2020 (Holby City), Christmas Cookies, Christmas Fluff, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:41:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28167912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sevtacular/pseuds/sevtacular
Summary: Berenice G. Wolfe is delighted to announce the opening of her artisan bakery in Holby City. Her establishment will sell cakes, breads and patisserie alongside catering for executive functions and offering to-go handmade sandwiches and organic ground coffee.
Relationships: Serena Campbell/Bernie Wolfe
Comments: 30
Kudos: 73
Collections: Berena Secret Santa 2020





	Bake the Yuletide Gay

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Persiflage](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Persiflage/gifts).



> Merry Christmas one and all!
> 
> It is with great pleasure that I am now kicking off this year's Berena Secret Santa event. I wasn't supposed to be but something came up and @Persiflage kindly agreed to swap slots with me...
> 
> ...which is fortunate because @Persiflage is my secret santa giftee!
> 
> The prompts I was given were "Soft!Bernie +gifts OR Snow Days +smut (optional if the author wishes) OR Christmas Baking Successes and Failures +laughter" and so I, being ExtraTM, decided to include them all (apart from smut because that's not in my skillset).
> 
> I hope you enjoy this little journey into the world of Bernie Wolfe: Artisan Baker!

_Berenice G. Wolfe_

_is delighted to announce the opening of her artisan bakery in_

_Holby City._

_Her establishment will sell_

_cakes, breads and patisserie alongside catering for executive functions_

_and offering to-go handmade sandwiches and organic ground coffee._

_Official opening 8 th November_

“OMG Mum!” Ellie shrieks, nearly deafening her poor mother. “Have you seen this?!”

Ellie thrusts her phone in Serena’s face and the vascular surgeon squints to read the text – a swirling italicised script on a plain cream background.

“Wow,” Serena breathes. “Does it say where the shop is going to be?”

Serena’s mind is already wandering ahead to pre-work stop-offs for mouth-watering pastries at what will likely be eye-watering prices. It doesn’t matter. She has to try some of Berenice G. Wolfe’s legendary baking. This is a dream come true.

Berenice G. Wolfe is something of a culinary enigma. She’s good at what she does, her name practical royalty in baking circles. It was Berenice G. Wolfe who made the Queen’s latest birthday cake: tiers upon tiers of white chocolate coated cakes, elegant swirls piped on in dark chocolate, with added royal crests, also in the neatest of chocolate work. But that’s not all the legendary Berenice G. Wolfe has done. Her organic semolina loaf in the shape of a swan almost broke the internet with its beauty when, the year previously, M&S had featured it as part of their festive advertising campaign which announced their Christmas collaboration with the legendary baker. And that’s not even starting on the woman’s patisserie! There isn’t a person in the country who has not seen a photo of Berenice G. Wolfe’s patisserie and gasped at how flaky and intricate the work always is. Beyond that, Berenice G. Wolfe has taken the vol-au-vent and turned it into her own. Gone are the slightly retro awkward party snacks. Here are the chic bites of surprising flavours. So huge has the woman’s impact on vol-au-vents been, the previous series of the _Great British Bake Off_ even had a vol-au-vents signature where the contestants had to create Berenice G. Wolfe-inspired designs and flavours.

Berenice G. Wolfe is the country’s foremost baker, there’s no disputing it. But, like the Banksy of baking, nobody knows what the woman looks like. No matter how many times one searches the internet, there are no confirmed photos of Berenice G. Wolfe. All of her social media pages are just filled with photograph after photograph of the woman’s baking, with links to her website for bespoke orders and business enquiries. The only picture which does not contain any baking on the woman’s entire Instagram is the latest post announcing her new shop in Holby City. Serena’s not naïve enough to think the woman herself will be running the shop. She knows that logically it’ll be the first in a series of chain stores Berenice G. Wolfe puts her name to. The woman herself isn’t going to set foot anywhere near somewhere like Holby City. She’s probably tucked in some bespoke studio in Oxford or London or Cambridge. The lack of the celebrity owner isn’t going to stop her from sampling the wares. From the photos alone, Serena knows that Berenice G. Wolfe’s baking will be to die for.

-

The location of the shop is, handily enough, not too far away from Holby City Hospital. Formerly a family-owned takeaway, Serena watches as week by week it undergoes some serious transformations into Berenice G. Wolfe’s artisan bakery. Large glass windows are installed surrounded by a white frame with pale blue shutters which draw across the glass. Inside, it’s clear that a remodel is occurring to expand the kitchen area at the back and minimise the shop space at the front. In fact, from what Serena can see as she passes, the front of the shop now boasts a single L-shaped glass-covered counter and enough standing room for only one or two customers at most. The windows contain shelves which Serena is sure will always be laden with baked goods galore. Finally, the sign is installed. A sleek number with the words ‘Berenice G. Wolfe’ embossed on top, the words ‘Artisan Bakery’ in a smaller font size beneath. It all looks very professional. Serena can’t wait for it to be open.

In the week leading up to the official opening, Berenice G. Wolfe’s Instagram account teases new bakes and items which will be available on the menu as soon as the shop opens. There are beetroot loaves. Melt-in-the-middle cookies. Vegan Bakewell tarts. Peanut butter bread. Chocolate carrot cakes. Super-sized custard creams. Cinnamon swirls. White chocolate blondies. The list is absolutely endless and Serena finds her thoughts filled to the brim with all of the bakes she wants to try. She knows without a doubt that the presence of Berenice G. Wolfe’s bakery in Holby City is going to open her eyes to new possibilities beyond her usual go-to pain-au-chocolat.

-

Serena doesn’t plan on going to the official opening but Ellie and Jason insist, both having followed the countdown on Berenice G. Wolfe’s Instagram. Serena’s off work so agrees, walks to the street where the bakery is and is fully unsurprised to see a ginormous queue already formed, many of whom appear to be food journalists who have turned out to photograph and review Berenice G. Wolfe’s baking.

At five to nine, a young man with slightly curly hair and a smart Berenice G. Wolfe apron on opens the front door of the bakery and begins walking down the queue, repeatedly thanking people for waiting and handing out envelopes from a stack he’s holding.

As soon as they have theirs, Jason has torn into his and holds aloft the contents within like he’s a child in _Charlie and the Chocolate Factory._

“I’ve got a voucher for a free doughnut, Auntie Serena!”

“Oooh, I’ve got a free hand-crafted coffee!” Ellie beams, clearly thrilled with this. “What did you get, Mum?”

Serena opens her envelope carefully, prising apart the paper before pulling out the thick card within.

“Goodness me, I’ve got six free biscuits of my choosing.”

Elinor and Jason immediately start debating which of the bakes they want to try from what they’ve seen on Instagram, unable to choose between all of the delicacies they know will be on offer. Serena keeps an ear on their conversation so she chooses something for each of them. She has no idea what she’ll choose for herself though.

-

The queue moves forward almost painfully slowly, as each patron selects their goods and claims their reward. Serena now realises just why they’ve all been sweetened with free goodies, otherwise she imagines several people would have got more than a little impatient by now.

Finally, it’s their turn. The dark-haired young man opens the shop door and invites them in, thanking them for waiting. Behind the counter is an older woman with golden hair that seems to have a dusting of flour in it.

“Hello, how can I help you?” Her voice is softened butter. Elinor immediately asks for a cinnamon macchiato with almond milk. The dark-haired young man salutes before beginning to prepare the coffee, the machine hissing and making comforting sounds as the beans are ground and the drink crafted before their eyes. Jason offers up his doughnut coupon before selecting a chocolate and hazelnut creation from behind the counter, intricate chocolate work piped across half of the delicacy. Jason’s eyes widen with delight upon his first taste of the delicacy that he’s been presented with for free.

“And what about you?” The woman asks Serena, breaking her out of her awe-filled gazing around the veritable emporium of baked goods she finds herself in.

“Well I’ve been given six free biscuits,” Serena says. “Please can I have a caramel filled cookie for Ellie, a chocolate fudge biscuit for Jason and a super-sized custard cream for myself? Then perhaps one of your Viennese biscuits and one of those egg-free cookies?” She pauses. The woman, sensing her apprehension, smiles.

“And for your final selection?”

“You must have tried some of the bakes now you work here, right?” She asks. The woman smiles bashfully and tucks a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

“You could say that.”

“In that case, I shall defer to your expertise.” Serena says, winking. The woman’s cheeks flush as red as holly berries and she smiles a small smile before selecting a final biscuit for Serena’s selection.

“How about one of the pain-au-chocolat biscuits? They’re a twist on the classic pastry but in biscuit form.”

Serena’s jaw drops.

“How did I not notice those? Yes please, they sound scrumptious.”

The woman smiles softly again before passing the waxed paper bags over the counter.

“Thank you for visiting us today, I hope to see you again soon.”

“Oh don’t worry,” Serena grins. “I rather think you might.”

-

When Serena next visits the bakery, she’s on her way home from a hellish night shift and simply can’t face the prospect of going to bed without having consumed something decadent and sugary. The same woman who served them last time greets her, eyes crinkling at the corners as she smiles.

“Good morning!”

“Good evening, really.” Serena mutters then hastens to clarify herself lest the woman think she’s mad. “I’ve just come off a night shift.”

“In that case, can I tempt you with a sugar mouse muffin? I find you never get too old for sugar mice and when combined with a muffin they’re the ultimate naughty sugary bedtime treat.” The woman drops a subtle wink and Serena wonders if she’s being flirted with, just a little bit.

Serena looks at the muffins, decorated with elegant paw prints of caramel with a cute little sugar mouse sat on top. Rather than the classic flat design, these sugar mice have been moulded so the mouse is sat on its haunches atop the cake, its front paws sticky with caramel and a guilty expression piped onto its face. Serena smiles.

“A sugar mouse muffin it is, then. And perhaps an orange juice?”

The woman packages up the order into a waxed paper bag and hands it over with a smile.

“Enjoy! And sleep well.”

As Serena leaves, the bell tinkling after her, she turns and sees the woman offer a small wave through the bakery window. Would it look too keen if she returned tomorrow too?

-

When Serena enters the next morning, she’s a little disappointed to find a young woman with dark hair pulled up into a neat bun standing behind the counter.

“Hi, how can I help you?” Her smile is wide and there’s an air of youthful exuberance about her.

“Oh, um… Please can I have…” Serena casts her eye about the baked goods on offer, realising she has no idea what she came in for to eat. Rather, she was hoping to see the counter assistant with the perpetual dusting of flour in her hair. Remembering they’re having soup later, she decides to buy a loaf. The young woman purses her lips.

“Sorry, they’re not out yet. We had a problem with the electrics this morning so Bernie’s only just finishing making them now. I’ll ask her when they’ll be done.” The young woman steps to the doorway leading through to the back of the shop. “Bernie?”

“Yes?” A head covered in golden hair (and the ever-present dusting of flour) appears and Serena beams. Bernie! So that’s her name. The woman _(Bernie)_ notices her and smiles, entering the shop fully. “Hello, you.” Her voice is warm and Serena blushes. They’re interrupted by the store assistant.

“This lady here was wondering when the bread will be done?”

“It’s all in the ovens now, the first batch should be out and warm in ten minutes.” The woman grins. Serena notices her bare arms, finds herself silently tracing the muscles in her forearms that she can see as a result of the woman’s rolled up sleeves.

“Excuse me?” The woman’s voice snaps Serena out of her staring and she looks up to see the younger woman has disappeared, she’s now alone in the shop with Bernie.

“Sorry, I was miles away. What were you saying?”

“Just that whilst the bread bakes and Charlotte makes a start on the patisserie, did you want to chat?”

“I’d love to,” Serena’s stomach does a little flip. Ten minutes alone with Bernie!

-

In the end, they don’t get ten minutes alone. A bakery with Berenice G. Wolfe’s name on it is always going to attract customers and there’s a steady stream of people who Bernie serves with a warm smile. Between customers, they share snatches of conversations and Serena finds herself infinitely fascinated by her new friend. The woman doesn’t give away much. Just that she’s got no kids, is new to the Holby City area and has an enormous sweet tooth. She laughs loudly at Serena’s bad jokes and shares her favourite bakes in the shop with Serena. When Charlotte reappears with a basket of fresh loaves in her hands, Serena is reluctant to pay and exit. It seems Bernie feels the same, her cheeks tinting red as she bids Serena goodbye “for now”.

-

Serena leaves theatre after a gruelling three-hour repair of a young cyclist’s vasculature when she notices the little box on her desk. Brow furrowing, she gets closer and confirms her suspicions that it’s the sort of square-shaped box she can only ever remember seeing at the bakery of her youth when she was allowed a rum truffle as a treat on Sundays. Atop the box is a messy drawing of a stethoscope and ‘Serena, AAU, Holby City Hospital’ in block capitals. Opening it curiously, she finds within a sight to make her groan with delight. Four cupcakes, each with rose-like piping atop and a simple spritz of edible glitter. Pulling one out and peeling away the wrapper, Serena groans again when she bites into the sponge and the sharp tang of citrus hits her tongue. Lemon cupcakes are just what she needs right now.

-

The mystery gifts continue. Not every day, but at least twice a week Serena is guaranteed that a confectioner’s box will make its way onto AAU and be filled with delicious delicacies to cheer her up. Banoffee pie. Cinder toffee. Even a large slab of Nutella chocolate brownie. The team on AAU begin to tease Serena slightly, Raf and Fletch talking about Serena’s secret admirer whenever they get the chance. Serena brushes them off but secretly she’s intrigued. Just who is the person spending an absolute fortune on getting so many baked goods delivered to her place of work?

-

Serena has also become a regular visitor to Berenice G. Wolfe’s artisan bakery. She’s got to know Cameron (the young man with the curly hair and pathetic fuzzy attempt at growing a beard), Charlotte (a lifelong home-baker who has dreams of one day owning her own patisserie school) and Bernie. _Bernie._ Bernie has become a fast friend to Serena and whilst she still feels the counter assistant is holding back when conversation gets personal, Serena still feels closer to her than she’s felt to anyone in a long time. It’s not unusual now for Saturday mornings to feature early starts so she can get to the bakery ready for opening time at 8am, allowing her precious long moments to talk with Bernie as Charlotte makes the day’s fine cakes and Cameron works on the pies for the hot plate behind the counter. Bernie herself seems reluctant to show off her own talents, though Serena knows she must have them to work at a shop owned by a baker as talented as Berenice G. Wolfe. Instead, Bernie is effusive with praise towards everything her two younger colleagues make. Serena wonders if Bernie doesn’t have a bit of a maternal view of them, even though she has no children herself.

-

One drizzly Saturday late in November sees Serena propping up the bakery counter, admiring all of the different wares on display. It seems like the stock always changes. Almost daily, Berenice G. Wolfe’s Instagram features a brand-new design or flavour combination which then finds its way out onto the menu of the little artisan bakery. Perhaps it’s the constantly rolling stock which keep all the food lovers of Holby City returning to the bakery with such regularity. That’s what Serena tells her colleagues her reason is, anyway, when she turns up to AAU with yet another waxed paper bag printed with Berenice G. Wolfe’s name.

Serena is just debating whether she should buy Ellie a super-sized custard cream or a dainty cherry petit-four when Bernie brings out a tray of chocolate orange cupcakes. Serena gasps. They’re chocolate sponge with perfectly orange buttercream piped on in a neat rosette. Placed carefully on the top of the cake is a full segment of Terry’s chocolate orange. Serena also knows full well that the buttercream is infused with orange essence and within the chocolate cake is a hint of orange zest. At her gasp, Bernie looks up questioningly.

“I’ve tried one of those before! The other week, somebody delivered it to my work and it was such a good pick-me-up after a long surgery-” Serena pauses, noticing how her friend’s cheeks have gone an adorable shade of pink. If it wasn’t for the tray of cupcakes she’s holding, Serena knows her friend would be reaching up to tuck her hair behind her ear.

“Wait,” Serena breathes, realisation dawning. “The gifts are from you, aren’t they?”

Bernie nods sheepishly, almost as if she’s afraid of what Serena will say.

“Well that explains why they’re always so delicious then,” she smiles. “And how my mystery gift giver never chooses something I don’t like. I think you know my tastes by now!” Serena winks and Bernie blushes a deeper shade of red.

“Nothing too bitter, right?”

“Damn right,” Serena beams, pleased Bernie has remembered her throwaway comment from a previous visit. “Well, thank you so much for them.”

-

The gifts continue and Serena can’t help but feel joy every time she receives one. Fletch and Raf still joke about her secret admirer and Serena sometimes finds herself wondering. Wondering about if she and Bernie were dating. Would Bernie be the type to send her little gifts then too? Or are they only reserved for friends? Serena rather thinks Bernie would send her gifts if they were dating. Feels her belly get warm at the thought of gifts from Bernie, cosy evenings in with Bernie, kisses with Bernie, _more_ with Bernie. Shaking her head to dispel any erratic thoughts, Serena gets out of her chair and heads to do ward rounds. It won’t do to go having meddlesome thoughts about the taciturn bakery assistant.

-

“Wow.” Ellie’s voice is filled with awe. Serena looks up from where she’s putting a freezer meal shepherd’s pie in the oven to see what her daughter is looking at. Sensing her Mum’s anticipation, Elinor turns her phone screen around so Serena can see.

It’s an Instagram post from Berenice G. Wolfe. An intricate table centrepiece which can apparently be pre-ordered for Christmas delivery. It’s a tree made of tiers upon tiers of layered white chocolate finger biscuits, the baker’s own take on the classic Christmas sharing snack. As is customary with Berenice G. Wolfe products, the tree is covered in delicate chocolate work, making garlands and coloured lights. Then, crowning the tree, is the star. It’s got a shortbread outer but the inside has had shards of melted sugar sweets poured into it so that the final effect is of a translucent silvery window. It is, in a word, stunning.

“Wow indeed,” Serena murmurs.

-

When Serena next goes to Berenice G. Wolfe’s artisan bakery, the phone keeps ringing so she barely gets any proper conversation with Bernie. Charlotte explains between calls that they’ve been inundated with requests for the chocolate finger centrepiece, alongside hundreds of others for vol-au-vents, finger foods and general festive desserts.

“Goodness me, I hope Berenice G. Wolfe has you all on good pay for all the overtime you’ll be doing!” Serena says.

Behind the counter, Bernie nods.

-

As December arrives in a bluster of chilly weather, Bernie seems to always have an extra layer of flour on her. The bakery is clearly working flat out to make all of the various Christmas orders. Serena wonders if perhaps Berenice G. Wolfe should fulfil some of them, or wonders of the celebrated chef is only making up some of the exclusive offers in whichever posh neighbourhood her own private kitchen is in. Bernie, Cam and Charlotte all seem happy enough though, never being anything other than cheerful when they serve her in the shop. And somewhere in amongst it all, Bernie still finds the time to send Serena little tokens when she’s on shift. Serena has no idea how she’ll ever thank the woman who has perhaps become the closest friend she’s ever had.

-

It’s a grey Saturday evening and Serena’s at home, having foregone her trip to the bakery today. Bernie had told her that the team would be all systems go on a massive corporate contract which the bakery had for some company or other’s Christmas party in a fancy Holby City hotel suite.

Ellie’s out Christmas shopping with friends and Jason is doing a shift at the local hospice. Serena has just finished her first glass of wine when her phone rings.

“Hello?”

“Auntie Serena?” It’s Jason. Serena’s immediately alert.

“Jason, darling? Is everything alright?”

“Yes, you’ll never guess what just happened!” Jason briefly pauses for breath before continuing. “You know how the hospice is connected with Holby City Central Foodbank? Well a big van just pulled up and Cameron got out. Cameron from the bakery, that is. And he came in and said that they’d just finished the catering for a big event and that there was surplus which didn’t get eaten, could the foodbank use it? Berenice G. Wolfe is apparently very concerned about social justice and one of the clauses of her corporate contracts is that none of her food will get wasted, isn’t that great? Anyway, so Cameron said that and Morven, who was on the foodbank desk, said yes they’d love some fancy treats. Then Cameron opened the van and there was SO MUCH, Auntie Serena. There were over three hundred cream horns that hadn’t been eaten, alongside loads of vol-au-vents and mini pies and quiches and things. Literally every person who uses the foodbank has now got a Berenice G. Wolfe bag of food to have alongside what they come in for. It was incredible Auntie Serena. If sad that there was so much waste from the big corporate event. It seems very inefficient to order so much surplus food.”

“It really does, Jason,” Serena says. She’s shocked by the level of food waste that nearly occurred but she’s also quietly impressed that Berenice G. Wolfe clearly cares so much about the world and its injustices. She wishes she could meet her.

-

The next time she sees Bernie, Serena can’t help but laugh. The bakery assistant has a smear of chocolate across her nose which makes her look even more adorable than usual.

“What on earth have you been doing?” She asks, an edge of fondness in her voice.

“Oh, uh, I’ve just been working on some things,” Bernie shrugs before reaching up to try and wipe the chocolate away. The move only serves to smear it further and Serena laughs before taking pity on the other woman and pulling a tissue out of her pocket.

“Come here, you messy thing,” Serena smiles, before taking Bernie’s chin in her left hand and using her right to gently wipe the chocolate away. Time seems to stand still and Serena swears she hears Bernie’s breath hitch. How easy it would be, she thinks, to just lean forward and-

“Whoops!” Charlotte’s voice breaks through the moment like a knife in a Genoise. The pair of them spring apart and feign far too much interest in the young woman carefully displaying some perfectly formed festive flavoured quiches in the window of the bakery.

Serena buys her cupcakes and leaves in a hurry, her mind whirling with the implications of what almost happened between she and Bernie.

-

Not an hour later, Serena finds herself salivating over a photo which gets uploaded to Berenice G. Wolfe’s Instagram account. Apparently, the woman has been working on Christmas cheesecakes – layers of creamy goodness adorned with the intricate chocolate work which by now is almost a signature of any Berenice G. Wolfe dessert. She wonders if they’ll ever appear in the Holby City bakery or if they’re an exclusive item that only those closest to Berenice G. Wolfe get to try.

-

“How are you going to spend Christmas?” Serena asks Bernie the next time she sees her. The two of them are steadfastly ignoring what almost occurred last time Serena visited Berenice G. Wolfe’s artisan bakery. In the chilled cabinet beside her, two festive cheesecakes sit unnoticed.

“Oh, I’ll just spend it alone in my flat I think.” Bernie says. Serena gasps.

“Oh, no! We can’t have that, not when I don’t even have a full house this year. Where do you live, is it far from here?”

Bernie points to the ceiling and Serena raises her eyebrows.

“You live above the bakery?”

“It’s a convenient location. Allows me to be up early to start the bread first thing. Also means I don’t have far to commute home if I stay a little later either.”

“Whilst I admire your dedication to the job, I do wonder if Berenice G. Wolfe shouldn’t be ensuring that you don’t overwork.”

Bernie flushes a deep red and instantly tries to guide the conversation back to Christmas.

“So, uh. What are you doing for Christmas?”

“Me, Jason and Ellie will spend the day at mine. Would you like to come? Oh, please say you will Bernie!” Serena suddenly finds herself desperate for her friend to spend Christmas with her.

“I wouldn’t want to intrude.” Bernie says, holding a hand up.

“You wouldn’t be. Consider it a thank you for all of the gifts you send to me at work.”

“Okay. I suppose so. It sounds lovely, thank you.”

Serena’s stomach does an excited little somersault.

“You could come over Christmas Eve and we could make it a whole couple of days of festive fun!”

“I’m working Christmas Eve; we’ve got lots of orders for desserts and the like. But I could come round after the bakery closes?”

“Yes, please do! I’m sure Jason and Elinor won’t mind.”

“Then it’s a deal.” Bernie grins, her whole face lighting up. Serena wraps her in a slightly awkward over the counter hug and picks up her purchases.

“I can’t wait. See you soon, Bernie!”

-

Late on Christmas Eve, Serena answers the door to find Bernie balancing several Tupperware boxes on top of one another alongside a backpack with what Serena assumes is her overnight things in and, alongside all of that, a large bag for life.

“I don’t remember telling you to bring anything,” Serena says, confusion in her voice.

“You didn’t. But I figured that all of the bakery leftovers from today wouldn’t go amiss.” Bernie winks as Serena beams and almost snatches the tubs from her.

“Put your coat and shoes anywhere in the hall – just not on Jason’s labelled peg. I’ll go and let the two of them know you come bearing baked goods.”

“Oh, and can I borrow some space in your fridge?” Bernie asks, bringing the bag for life through to the kitchen.

“Of course, but why do you need some?” Serena asks, then panics as she sees Bernie place some soya milk in the fridge.

“Oh heavens, you’re not vegan, are you? I hadn’t thought to ask so only have turkey planned for tomorrow!”

“Not vegan, no,” Bernie smiles, continuing to place other items in the fridge and, at Serena’s nod of approval in response to her questioning glance, the larder cupboard. “I just thought I might do some baking tomorrow?”

“Baking?” Serena sounds aghast. “But you spend all day baking at work!”

“I like baking.” Bernie says simply. “And there’s some things I’d been planning on baking this weekend anyway.”

“Oh, go on then,” Serena grins. “The kitchen’s all yours as soon as Christmas dinner is over.”

As soon as Serena tells them what Bernie has brought, Ellie and Jason descend on the kitchen, crowing delightedly as they pick at slightly broken cookies and wonky gingerbread. Serena goes to stand beside Bernie and rubs her arm gently.

“Thank you for coming,” she whispers.

“Thank you for inviting me,” Bernie says, the tips of her ears pink.

-

They spend Christmas Eve singing carols and watching Christmas films on the TV. Jason and Ellie then beg off up to their rooms to do their own thing for a while, leaving Bernie and Serena alone on the couch. When it becomes apparent that neither of them are interested in the late night showing of _White Christmas_ , Serena switches it off and leans into Bernie’s side.

“This is nice,” she says absently. Bernie hums in agreement.

“Much better than how I had planned to spend Christmas.” Serena says, relishing in the softness of Bernie’s jumper under her cheek.

“Mmm,” Bernie hums again, her eyelids drooping.

Twenty minutes later, Serena stands up, groaning.

“Come on you, let’s go up to bed before we fall asleep here. I’m too old to be falling asleep on sofas.”

Bernie freezes, looking at her with wide eyes.

“I, uh. Am I not sleeping on the sofa?”

“No, silly. You’ve got the guest room,” Serena rolls her eyes fondly and Bernie relaxes. “I’ll show you where everything is. Feel free to sleep in in the morning, I know you’ve been rushed off your feet today at the bakery.”

-

Serena spends the night tossing and turning in a way that she has not since she herself believed in Father Christmas. Knowing Bernie is just across the hallway is too tempting a thought. She has snatches of dreams of their almost-kiss. Of what else they could share if only they were brave enough.

-

Christmas morning sees Serena busy preparing the turkey and trimmings ready for Christmas dinner. She’s already got the turkey in the oven and has started on the bread sauce when a quiet voice behind her asks if there’s any coffee going. Clutching her hand to her chest, Serena points a spoon at the offender.

“Could you wear louder shoes please?” She winks as Bernie faux-pouts at her.

“Sorry, I only have my slippers on I’m afraid,” she points down at her fluffy reindeer slippers. At Serena’s raised eyebrow, she shrugs. “My feet get cold. And it’s nice to feel a bit festive.”

-

Christmas dinner goes without a hitch, much to Serena’s relief. Bernie helps with the vegetables and other smaller tasks, proving herself to be equally as adept at cooking as she is baking. She’s at home in the kitchen and it’s plain to see. Serena’s glad for the opportunity to watch her friend like this. Finds herself wishing she could watch Bernie cook more often.

-

After Christmas dinner they laze about in front of the TV, Elinor and Jason making use of their Christmas presents (a new phone and some Nintendo games respectively). Serena lies her head on Bernie’s shoulder and dozes a while, sleeping off the food and excitement of the morning.

She’s awoken by Bernie gently shaking her.

“Serena… Serena!”

“Mmph?” Serena responds, getting a mouthful of Bernie’s jumper as her brain tries to catch up with the situation she finds herself in.

“Serena, it’s snowing. I’m really sorry but I’m going to have to go or I’ll never make it back tonight.”

“No!” Serena hears herself say vehemently. Bernie, Jason and Elinor all look at her quizzically. “What I mean is,” Serena says in a more measured tone “why don’t you stay overnight again? I don’t imagine the bakery is open tomorrow either, is it? That way you can still bake here and we can sort out getting you home when the snow ploughs have been out.”

Bernie smiles.

“Okay.”

-

A little while later, Bernie goes to start her baking and almost as soon as she’s out of the room, Elinor turns to give her mum a knowing stare.

“So are you going to tell her you fancy her or shall I?”

“Elinor!” Serena looks towards the door to check Bernie isn’t within earshot.

“What? I’m right and you know it.” Elinor’s tone calls for no arguments. It’s a tone she’s adopted after years of being on the receiving end of it herself when asking Serena if she could host house parties whilst her mother was on a late shift.

“To be fair, Auntie Serena, you haven’t been very subtle about how much you are attracted to Bernie. You’re always going to the bakery and sometimes you don’t even buy anything substantial, you just go to spend time with her. Also, it’s a little odd to invite your local baker round for Christmas if you don’t have any sort of emotional attachment to them.”

They’re both right. Serena sighs.

“Okay, okay. Yes, I do fancy her. But I can’t just tell her, can I?”

“You really can. Life would be much simpler if people just did the obvious thing.” Jason sighs.

“Look, Jason and I will go upstairs for a bit and give you some privacy, okay?” Elinor says. “We’ll come down again later when hopefully you’ve put an end to your mooning after her.”

Serena watches as her daughter and nephew disappear out of the room and up the stairs. Taking a deep breath, she heads to the kitchen.

-

Bernie is busy icing some delicate Christmas cookies when she walks in. They’re in the shape of snowflakes and Bernie has covered them in silver edible glitter and is currently piping delicate patterns of white chocolate along them. Watching her, some glitter on her arms and flour in her hair, takes Serena’s breath away. Bernie truly is the most beautiful woman she has ever seen.

“Hey,” she says softly, mindful of the elegant work Bernie is currently doing. “Need a sous-chef?”

Bernie smiles her characteristic small smile, her whole face lighting up happily.

“You can help with the mince pies,” she says.

-

Serena might be able to cook a roast but she absolutely cannot bake. The pastry goes well enough and the filling is something Bernie made days ago (“You need to make it at least a couple of days before,” she explains, “otherwise it doesn’t have the right flavour profile”) but the rest is a disaster. Bernie wants the pies to be shaped into cubes and then to have delicate pastry work on the top so they each look like a beautifully wrapped gift. She demonstrates how to make the pastry ribbons, how to score them using a cocktail stick to get patterns to hold, how to assemble the bows. Her own are elegant. Serena’s are clumsy. They both laugh at one attempt where Serena’s bow ends up falling off the pie entirely. Bernie tries repeatedly to instruct her and demonstrate the correct technique but Serena just can’t pick it up.

In the end, Bernie comes to stand behind Serena, wrapping her arms around her and guiding her hands to fold the pastry just so. Serena can’t think though, can barely breathe as all she can process is the press of Bernie up against her, every curve noticeable, every shift in her muscles causing Serena to shiver.

“Everything alright?” Bernie’s voice is close by her ear and it reminds Serena to breathe. She nods and turns to look at Bernie, sees her eyes are shining with everything Serena feels.

“Oh, Bernie,” Serena whispers the name like a prayer. She then does the only thing she can do. She turns in the baker’s arms and pulls Bernie’s lips to hers.

-

Long moments later, Serena pauses to rest her head on Bernie’s shoulder. Somehow she’s ended up sat on the kitchen island with Bernie between her legs. Both of them have kiss-swollen lips and are breathing heavily.

“Wow,” Serena grins.

“Ding dong merrily on high indeed!” Bernie says, her voice filled with warmth and humour.

“I suppose we should finish those mince pies.” Serena says. Bernie laughs.

“Yes, let’s. I’ve no idea how we’ll pass the time whilst they’re in the oven though.”

Her voice is filled with faux-innocence.

Serena’s responding laugh is filled with promise.

-

Pies in the oven and baking equipment cleared away, Serena reaches to pull Bernie towards her once more.

“Wait, Serena. There’s… There’s something I should tell you.” Bernie looks worried and Serena panics, wondering if Bernie would rather pretend nothing ever happened.

“Yes?” She tries not to let disappointment colour her tone.

“The thing is, Serena, I haven’t been entirely honest with you.” Bernie says. Serena raises an eyebrow questioningly.

“No?”

“No because well, you see, I am Berenice G. Wolfe. Bernie… It’s short for Berenice.”

Serena can’t speak, her mind has stopped at this revelation. How hadn’t she seen this coming? All the signs and symptoms were there but she just hadn’t connected the dots. It’s obvious, now she sees it. How had she been so blind?

“What?” Is all she manages to say.

“I’ve been wanting to tell you for weeks,” Bernie says imploringly. “But I just couldn’t.”

“Why?” Serena wants to know.

“Because I wanted you to like me for me, not for the person you think I am based on my baking.”

“Oh, Bernie. I’ve liked you, well, more than liked you in fact for a long time now. You being the greatest baker this country has to offer doesn’t change the fact that I fell in love with your kindness, your generosity, the way you make me laugh.”

She pauses as Bernie’s eyes have gone as wide as the baubles on the tree.

“You love me?”

“I do.”

“Well, you should know I love you too,” Bernie blushes, as if she’s not used to saying the words out loud. Serena pulls her down for a kiss, tears of happiness shining in her eyes.

-

Later that day, a post appears on Instagram. It’s a photo of some snowflake cookies artfully displayed around a plate which contains a parcel-shaped mince pie sitting in a pool of custard.

_@BereniceGWolfe: Warm mince pie and soya custard with Christmas cookies… Baking tastes better when it’s shared with the people you love._

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas everyone! (and a special shoutout to Wonko for organising this event and being oh so very patient with me and my ever-changing demands/requests re: the posting schedule)


End file.
